


blue skies. white clouds.

by segyeros (nuages)



Series: dream set [1]
Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Gen, Yeri-Centric, seuldy if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 19:23:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4932253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuages/pseuds/segyeros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this is the story of the little girl who dreamed of flying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	blue skies. white clouds.

**Author's Note:**

> un-beta'ed, done in under five hours, it's currently two in the morning and if there's any mistakes i apologize and will fix them in the morning. this was born out of listening to cool world and staring at the sky, it's become a monster i didn't expect. kind of like a star trek au? i guess? if you notice it, it's there i guess. anyway, i'm rambling. enjoy (or not)!

the first time yerim steps foot on a hover train, the soft whir of the magnetic field vibrates the soles of her feet and shocks her into surprise. it takes seconds to adjust and once she finds footing and isn’t too nauseous to walk she trudges forward to her assigned seat in the back. she can hear the mocking whispers of slightly older classmates behind her but she chooses to ignore them. it can’t be helped: it _is_ her first time—on a train, outside of the countryside, without a guardian—she doesn’t know how this world works, not sure she’ll ever figure out. just the sight of the plantinum reinforced walls of the train station sparkling in the late morning sun on the bus ride here was enough to leave her in awe, let alone a train that **floated**.  
  
when her homeroom instructor finishes head count at the front, the doors of the train close and they speed off to their destination. she relaxes into the soft cushions and places her bag in the seat next to her. the spot is empty, abandoned by her supposed train buddy, no doubt off somewhere with her friends with little intention of coming back. she has grown accustomed to that happening on school trips so it doesn’t bother her, only gives her an excuse to stretch her legs in the small space. her arms rest on the edge of the window pane, and she lets them cradle her head as she watches the green fields of gangwon-do pass by. although korea is now one of the new world’s most advanced technological hubs, a galaxial waypoint of invention and innovation, it is still korea, and the historical photos she’s seen from the library’s holo-disks aren’t too far off from the things she sees every day back home. there are still tiny wooden houses and everflowing streams and fresh produce everywhere you look, humanity hasn’t lost its soul yet, her grandmother likes to remind her, and she loves the home that exists for her, wouldn’t dream of parting with it. she loves the feel of the summer breeze against her skin and the way her heart beats during a thunder storm, loves the mud catching on her toes as she works the fields on weekends and the sweat that trickles down her face on the walk to school, she loves the food and the warmth and the simplicity, but she’s seen other things on other holo-disks too—staggering skyscrapers and cutting edge fashion and flying cars (but the jetpacks look cooler) and hair of every colour—and she knows they are there to greet her in seoul, and she imagines. she always imagines.  
  
a tap on her window brings her out of her thoughts and she is startled, rightfully so. her eyes take a moment to capture the whole view before her. outside flying right beside the train was a girl, bursts of blue waves bubbling up from behind her and disappearing into thin air. (she recognizes it almost immediately. a jetpack. she’s wearing a jetpack. an actual real life jetpack!) her golden locks glisten in the bright yellow sun, as did her eyes and her smile, and she waves at yerim like an old friend though she is for sure a complete stranger. it is a comforting gesture, and even if her grandmother warned her to avoid interacting with strangers, she responds with a bright smile. when yerim hears footsteps approach her seat, she waves at the stranger, warning her to go away, and she catches on quickly and gives yerim a thumbs up before disappearing into the horizon. yerim wills her heartbeat to quiet down as the inspector checks up on her, and she is thankful her enthusiastic nods to all his questions were taken as youthful excitement rather than nerves. she is well aware of the laws the girl broke being so close to a public transport vehicle, she would rather not be found complicit.  
  
as the last stretches of field leave her vision when they enter a dark tunnel, her body falls into a comfortable lull and she closes her eyes for a little rest. the sleep bug catches her soon after, carrying her off to the joys of dreamland. last night she dreamt of falling, stepping over the edge of an impossible building and feeling blue skies and white clouds rush by her and the control lever in her hands failing to activate her jetpack with every move.  
  
today it does, and today she soars bubbly blue.  
  
—  
  
the second time yerim steps foot on a hover train, she bursts into a sigh of relief. the doors were inches away from closing in on her but she leapt into action at the right moment, finding footing in the rigged carpeting, and an earful from her homeroom instructor. she bows in apology and promises never to be distracted on a trip again (there was a robot dog! a pet made of nuts and bolts!) and if her fingers are crossed behind her back the whole time no one needs to know. she rushes to her assigned seat in the back again, giddy the whole way there, and dumps her bag in the seat next to her without a care in the world. her face and hands find themselves glued to the window as the train begins its journey back to the gangwon-do, and when the whole skyline of seoul is in her view she soaks it all in, framing every detail and storing it in the back of her mind. she catches a glimpse of a person in flight before the darkness of the tunnel blinds her eyes and her heart skips.  
  
today she saw the future. she saw flying men and flying cars and flying buildings and flying everything. she heard machines whizz and cogs twist and solar engines purr and not a single moment of quiet. she tasted organic-based cubes that were artificially flavoured to be everything she could ever hope for. she felt tiny against the tallest tower in seoul, so tall its end vanished into the distance, and touched the freezing glass from inside the elevator as it warmed itself over and over again. when they made their way up the observation deck she touched the clouds and had the winds of the troposphere rush against the palms of her hands and it was like achieveing impossible dreams, overcoming human limits and climbing to a place amongst the the planets in the sky and she felt alive. **feels** alive.  
  
she leans back into her chair, shock leaving her body in waves upon waves, and when she is finally calm her brain starts running. she wonders vaguely if she can convince her grandmother to take her to seoul on the weekend, and comes up with a number of scenarios she deems are necessary reasons for them to go there.  
  
when her mind catches up with her body and finally registers the tired state she’s in, she yawns and rests her head on the edge of the window pane, the flashes of tunnel lights pulling her into a hypnotic trance. she sleeps and dreams of endless blue skies and white clouds within her reach. she dreams of leaving them behind.  
  
she dreams of the stars.  
  
—  
  
the third time yerim steps foot on a hover train, she receives a medal of honor in place of her father, who died on what was to be his first trip home after a long journey to the far reaches of the galaxy for new life.  
  
(accident. blown engine. sacrifice. she doesn't ask about it much.)  
  
they speak of him highly, speak of his selflessness and bravery, his kindness and wit, his heart and mind and soul. they speak of things yerim knows only through her grandmother’s stories and video logs he would send for her birthday each year, but they were enough for her to feel like he was the greatest man she could ask to be her father.  
  
she cries the whole ceremony, promised herself not to but she still did, and when they ask her to speak she declines. “i don’t know what to say about a man i’ve never really met,” she says through her tears. she doesn’t think she sounded very convincing.  
  
they nod and let her mourn in peace.  
  
the fourth time yerim steps foot on a hover train, she vows never to go back to seoul ever again.  
  
—  
  
the fifth time yerim steps foot on a hover train, she hasn’t done so in years, and when the familiar soft whir of the magnetic field hums in her ears she closes her eyes and feels eleven again, but when she opens them, she isn’t. she is nineteen now, the little girl who dreamed of flying simply an etch in her unfolding history, and she’s on a full scholarship to star muse academy for her theories on sustaining the energy of falling meteorites for renewable rocket fuel that she can’t even think about the stars in a way that isn’t mathematical anymore, refuses to see them as anything more than data to be assessed and analyzed.  
  
still, time is relative, and seven years simply rush by in reverse as she takes the journey from gangwon-do to seoul. fields of green turned yellow are a blur to her, the trains now faster and more efficient than she remembered (or perhaps she was simply viewing things then as a child, with a newfound fascination for her surroundings that made everything move in eerie slow motion). her heart tugs as the train reaches a certain point. she looks out the window, visualizes the flying girl (who she named goldilocks, surely below her at age eleven, but who is she to question herself) and feels an ache in her bones she doesn’t know the name of. regret? melancholy? nostalgia?  
  
she chooses not to let it bother her. she takes her rest and just like before, she dreams. blue skies. white clouds.  
  
she’s falling with no one to save her.  
  
—  
  
it is year four when she is expected to put together a team to begin work on her study, and with her t.a. bae joohyun, she scouts the entire academy for people who can contribute to her vision. having built a reputation for her genius intellect and disattachment from social activities, most students shy away from her offers, declining politely with words of busy schedules and individual studies. she accepts their rejection just as well.  
  
“we’ll never find a team at this rate,” she screams out loud one time, crashing onto her couch after another day of failed recruitment. joohyun settles her holo-pad on the glass table and toggles with the apartment’s mainframe computer to get them both cups of tea. “don’t give up. we still have another batch of people to meet up with tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after. we just haven’t found the right people.”  
  
the tea arrives shortly after, and although yerim refuses at first, she finally relents when joohyun refuses to take it away.  
  
she takes one big sip, the liquid travelling down her throat and calming her whole body. “i’ve always wanted an older sister,” she says.  
  
“well now you have me,” and it’s true. yerim does have joohyun, has had her since day one. she’s always taken care of her, guided her on the transition from awkward country girl to intimidating super-genius, and for that yerim will always be thankful.  
  
the next day they find park sooyoung, a feisty girl from the engineering department with a killer tongue when it came to comebacks, and yerim looks at joohyun and joohyun looks at her and winks, and yerim wonders if this is what it’s like to not be alone, to have someone to rely on, to remind her to think positive.  
  
she thinks she likes it.  
  
—  
  
it is year six at the academy when she perfects her theory and it is year six when she is haunted by what she feared most when she returned to seoul in the first place. she presents her final batch of data and test models to the committee who deem her study “the future of space flight” and when they give her the go-ahead to test it on a real spacecraft she nearly jumps across the bottomless gap that separates them and gives the dean of the academy a giant hug. (she opts for a respectful bow instead.)  
  
as she exits the presentation chamber she is greeted again by the panelists, who give her handshakes and congratulations and praises beyond belief, and when the head of her department approaches she gives him the best salute she can muster with how much she’s shaking. “you did good, kid,” he tells her as he takes her aside, away from the crowd of colleagues. when they are alone, she engulfs him in a big hug. “thank you, heechul oppa.”  
  
“you ready to go into space?”  
  
yerim smiles at him. “of course, sir. i can’t wait to man the mission from the control room and—“  
  
heechul raises his eyebrow. “who said anything about the control room?”  
  
yerim frowns. “i assumed i was going to be allowed to man my own mission.”  
  
“yes, you are. in space. on that rocket.”  
  
at that, yerim suddenly feels sick. “i… i can’t.” she turns away from him and wipes the hot tears that have slowly begun to form on her eyes. “you know i can’t, not after my dad—“  
  
“you need to. it’s protocol.” he turns her around and wraps his arms around her in another hug, and she starts spilling her tears on his shirt. he rubs small comforting circles on her back. “i can try talking to the committee, get them to let you off, maybe send your t.a. in your place—” but yerim stops him.  
  
“no. i can… i’ll do it," she says, pulling back from his arms. "just tell them to give me more time.”  
  
“of course."

he looks at her one last time before letting go. "your father would be so proud."

she walks away without looking back.  
  
—  
  
the day after, she takes her team out for a celebratory dinner and puts her fears behind her for one night, allows herself the freedom to stuff herself with food and laugh at bad jokes and reminisce on you-had-to-be-there stories and sing her heart out (korea is not korea without a noraebang everywhere you go, she’s come to learn).  
  
“have you thought about it?” seulgi asks, inbetween handfuls of the crisps she had brought with her, and yerim raises an eyebrow at her. “manning the mission.”  
  
yerim shrugs. “i have to. it’s protocol.” she digs her hand into the container of crisps when they're faced in her direction. “i think i can do it.”  
  
wendy brightens from the loveseat she’s occupied with seulgi. “of course you can, we’ll be right there with you.” they settle into a silence as joy shuffles through the song selection on the tv screen, punching in numbers that are echoed by the karaoke machine. a familiar epic piano riff roars through the speakers and when the beat crashes in, everyone gets up from their seats to sing along. it is a familiar tune, a sort of make-shift theme song for the group, yerim realizes, and it fills her heart with joy that she shares this with the five of them. her friends. her best friends.  
  
five seconds into the chorus she’s laughing with tears because she doesn’t remember the last time she felt this good, then it just turns into full blown crying because she can’t even recall the last time she did this kind of thing, doesn’t even remember having people to call friends before the academy. she’s suddenly overwhelmed with so much fondness for this group of people she’s spent the last two years with and they haven’t even taken a lick of soju. she tells them this and they all smile and agree to a group hug without a question. when they disperse, she tugs at their hands and tells them to keep holding. she looks at all of them, a smile on her face, feels the warmth coming from their hands and she feels so reassured like this—with people she cares about and loves.  
  
“joohyun, you’re the best t.a. anyone could ask for. you’ve been nothing but supportive, picking me up when i was down, getting me down when i was too high up, and taking care of me like the older sister i never had. we have eight years of difference on us but that’s never mattered, because you’ve always seen me as your equal. thank you for being my guide.”  
  
“seulgi and wendy, you’ve been two of the most hardworking assistant researchers i know, and you aren’t even in this department. i’m lucky to have found you two making out in the supply room that one time, because not only did i get two people who could get the job done, but i also now have two unnies i know will always be by my side. and yes, i will play both of your maids of honor at the ceremony.”  
  
“sooyoung, my favourite engineer, this whole project wouldn’t have been completed without you. you took my designs and did your magic, and for that i will always be eternally thankful. you see me like i’m the future of mankind, and i know, because you’ve told me thousands of times, but i don’t think i’ve ever told you that i started believing it because of you. thank you for believing in me.”  
  
she turns to the whole group and smiles. “thank you for all believing in me,” she utters, before they crash into another hug.  
  
when yerim lies in bed that night, high off of love and friendship and happiness, she dreams. blue skies. white clouds. she’s going higher and higher and when she’s there, about to break mesophere, about to crash into space and lose breath, she feels four hands catch her and carry her up higher, and she flies.  
  
she flies.  
  
—  
  
she has lost count now, doesn’t remember how many trips back and forth from gangwon-do to seoul she’s had to take since that school trip, but the moment she steps off the platform of the train station and boards the hover train to south jeolla where they will begin construction of the spacecraft she’s spent most of her life dreaming up, she feels eleven years old all over again. she closes her eyes, takes in everything so familiar about the situation and then takes in the new. suddenly, the little girl who dreamed of flying doesn’t seem so far away from her now.  
  
she never really left in the first place.  
  
she turns to her team, who have fallen in step right behind her, and she smiles. “let’s build us a rocket, girls.” they smile back and board the hover train with her and when they settle into their seats yerim walks past everyone else to take the spot in the back. the train shuts its doors and shuffles backwards towards their destination, and as it picks up speed the lines of her surroundings become blurrier and blurrier. she watches seoul get further and further away, tinier and tinier, and she closes her eyes. she dreams. blue skies. white clouds.  
  
when she opens her eyes, she realizes—it’s not just a dream.  
  
the little girl flies.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and critique appreciated! thank you for reading. (and yes, the song at the noraebang is into the new world by snsd! give yourself a pat on the back if you got it!)


End file.
